


Does No One in this Hidden Village Floss?

by FriendshipCastle



Category: Naruto
Genre: Dentists, Gen, mild panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 17:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3390245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendshipCastle/pseuds/FriendshipCastle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The shinobi of Konoha get mandatory dental and don't know what to do about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Does No One in this Hidden Village Floss?

As the morning meeting with division leaders was winding down, Shizune coughed delicately and said, “If I could just raised one more issue, Lady Tsunade…” 

“What,” Tsunade said through gritted teeth. Shizune had a very particular cough she unleashed when Tsunade had put something off for far too long that was far too important (though not necessarily as _pressing_ as, say, a sudden all-out attack on the village). It was a cough with a deadline attached to it.

Shizune shrank under Tsunade’s glare. “It’s just… We need to pick a healthcare plan.”

Tsunade blinked. “We have a hospital. And medics.”

“I mean, um. Well, civilians have been raising the issue of preventative care.”

“The fuck is that?” Tsunade said suspiciously.

“Well, ah, you know how some bloodlines have a tendency towards particular health issues?”

Tsunade shrugged. She was Senju—they tended to have manic personality disorders. Other clans were much worse off. At least the Senju didn’t have any kekkei genkai to mess with their genetics.

“Well, um. Making those ninja aware of possible future issues can help stop… well not _stop_ but certainly lessen the severity of... And I have a report here from the hospital that’s praising the sexual health seminars that we’ve been holding for the past few months,” Shizune said. She pulled out a packet of paper and waved it awkwardly. “It’s this kind of thing that the civilians have been pushing for. We teach our students ninja skills and chakra techniques and all that, but if they don’t know how to take care of themselves, they’re prone to sickness or—”

“Okay, what do you want me to do?” Tsunade snapped.

Shizune wilted again. “Dental.”

“Excuse me?”

“Mandatory dental, one appointment a year minimum for anyone who makes genin,” Shizune said. “Parents usually take their children anyway but because children gain the legal right to make decisions about their health and safety—as supervised by team leaders—once they graduate the Academy, we need greater incentives. And”—here Shizune glared around the room of silent adult ninja—“most chunin and jonin stop going to dentists entirely since they have no reminders.”

Tsunade considered. “Who in the village is going to take on that many ninja?”

Shizune smiled then and Tsunade’s eyes narrowed. She’d been played. This happened a lot. Shizune was clever. She chose her battles, prepared her defenses, and then Tsunade was left to figure out what she’d lost. Usually it was more than half the covers and at least three pillows, but these were less intimate circumstances. 

“Ishiguro Takamasa,” Shizune said. “He’s native but spent a few decades away from Konoha, treating rogue ninja and civilian merchant caravans until there was a bad rockslide that limited his mobility. He’s also known as the Wandering Tooth-Puller.”

There was a deep silence. Every ninja in the room ran a tongue over his or her teeth.

“That’s a terrifying name,” Tsunade said thoughtfully. “I like him already. Get someone over there and bother him. Oh, but in full ANBU gear. Let’s see how easily this Ishiguro scares. He’s gonna have to be tough to deal with ninja.”

Shizune ducked her head and clacked out, clipboard clutched to her chest.

Tsunade sat back with a deep breath. “That went better than expected.” She looked around at all of her team leaders, from the medics to the field ninja to the scouts, the wall patrols and jonin and chunin academy teachers. They all were surreptitiously testing their teeth and gums with lips, tongues, and (for those less concerned about their image) fingertips. Tsunade grinned. This was the best idea Shizune had come up with since she’d proposed.

 

 

 

Dr. Ishiguro Takamasa was talking with his assistant-slash-niece about next week’s schedule when Miyuki fell silent.

“Uncle…?” she said softly. She pointed over his shoulder. When Dr. Ishiguro turned around, there was an ANBU operative crouched on his windowsill.

“Afternoon,” the ANBU said.

“Can I help you?” Dr. Ishiguro said after a moment. Miyuki squeaked.

“May I come in?” the ANBU said. He had the still, relaxed posture that Dr. Ishiguro had noticed all ANBU exhibited, a lack of movement that had to be a conscious intimidation tactic. His hair was short-cropped and brown. A faint rim of metal showed around the edges of his mask. He seemed perfectly content to wait there forever.

“Sure,” Dr. Ishiguro said. Miyuki squeaked again and he glared over at her. “Miyuki, go home to your father and don’t talk about this. Tell him I was grumpy and yelled at you or something. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Miyuki backed out of the room and shut the door. Dr. Ishiguro heard her feet pound down the stairs. When he’d turned back, the ANBU was inside, standing by the desk with his arms loose and casual. The smooth features of the mask were turned towards Dr. Ishiguro.

“What do you want?” Dr. Ishiguro said bluntly.

“Are your offices particularly busy?” the ANBU asked.

“No,” Dr. Ishiguro said. He used to travel to his clients, back before he lost most of one leg and tweaked a vital section of his lower back. He’d moved in with his sister and her husband for his recovery and set up a practice that allowed people to come to him. The problem was, most of his clients had been wandering ninja, from missing rebels and deserters to assassins. They weren’t going to come to a hidden village. Civilians who had used him would never find Konoha on a map, either, so he’d lost everyone who’d trusted him to dig around in their open mouths. He was building his clientele back up but it was all either dentures or braces these days and there was steep competition.

The ANBU nodded as if he’d known all this, though. “Would you like to have a substantial increase in your patient numbers in exchange for dropping all existing patients and working exclusively for the shinobi of the Village Hidden in the Leaves?”

Dr. Ishiguro gripped the edge of his desk to keep from falling over. “Uh.”

“Payment would be more than adequate in exchange for complete confidentiality and random mind tests conducted by professionals,” the ANBU continued. “Are these terms acceptable?” 

“Mind tests?” Dr. Ishiguro managed.

“To test for dishonesty, intelligence-gathering, or mind-control jutsu placed on you,” the ANBU explained.

“What would, uh. Could you elaborate?”

“Your past would remain a secret,” the ANBU said. “Only events from this point forward would be subject to scrutiny. Your family lives in Konoha and this puts you in a position of trust already. Are you aware of the Will of Fire?”

“My brother-in-law talks about it sometimes,” Dr. Ishiguro said. “Mostly to his kids who’re in the Academy.” It felt as though this conversation was taking place far away from him.

“In this case it’s the assumption that you would protect this village and its inhabitants with your life, and therefore you would be trusted with those lives,” the ANBU said. “An outsider who came to Konoha would be more closely examined than you will be. Because you were born here and returned here and have roots here, you are a part of this village. It is presumed that you would not attempt to… tamper with our shinobi.”

Dr. Ishiguro nodded woodenly. “I see.”

“Do you need time to consider this proposition?” the ANBU said.

Dr. Ishiguro kept nodding but his mind was racing. He could use the business. He was going crazy gluing those little wires into place in little kid mouths. This was the kind of work he’d been doing for years, until the whole leg thing took him out of commission. He could do it again. And it wasn’t like he had anything worth hiding (at least, nothing that had happened in the past three years since he’d come back to Konoha to live with his sister).

“I’ll do it,” Dr. Ishiguro said.

“I will inform the Hokage,” the ANBU said, inclining his head. “Her aide will be in touch to set up a schedule, payment plans, and terms with you. We all appreciate your cooperation.” The man folded himself out Dr. Ishiguro’s window and was gone.

 

 

 

Tsume glared at the shrinking receptionist. “Whaddaya mean dogs aren’t allowed in here?”

“Um,” the girl whispered, trying to hide from the single, cold eye of Kuromaru, who growled at her low in his throat. “I, I mean there’s not _room_ for them, Ms. Inuzaka. In the office. I’m sorry.”

Tsume leaned back and sighed. “All right. Kiba, get your ass in there. Hana, you watch the dogs. Take ‘em for a quick jog or something.”

“Why do I have to go first?” Kiba whined.

Tsume glared. “Get. In. There.”

Kiba ducked past her, scooted through the door that a surprised Dr. Ishiguro was holding open, and sat himself in the chair.

“Well,” Dr. Ishiguro said. “Ah, Kiba?”

“Yeah,” Kiba grumbled.

“This will just be a check-up, some quick X-rays and a cleaning. You don’t have to be worried about me performing any surgeries or installing any technology in your mouth, all right? Let’s start with the basics. How often do you brush?”

“Uh.” Kiba thought. “I share those tooth-cleaning bones with Akameru, does that count?”

“No,” Dr. Ishiguro said, rubbing his forehead slowly. “It doesn’t. I won’t bother asking if you floss. Open up.”

Kiba popped his mouth open with a sigh.

Dr. Ishiguro’s recoiled, eyes watering behind the blue hygiene mask he was wearing. “Oh dear _lord_.”

“What?” Kiba said.

“You really need to start brushing,” Dr. Ishiguro said. “And I can recommend some good mouth wash. Let’s see.” He took a deep breath and ducked in for a closer look, angling his little mirror and tapping gently with a small hook. “Hm. Yours are the third sharpest teeth I’ve seen. Almost on par with that Suigetsu kid.”

Kiba made a sound that was mostly vowels.

“Well, if it runs in the family I assume it’s fine,” Dr. Ishiguro said with a shrug. “At least I’m prepared for when your mother and sister come in.”

 

 

 

Dr. Ishiguro finished his last note and spun on his stool to face the bearded jonin before him. “I have some pamphlets on quitting smoking that I’d like to give you.”

“You and everyone else in this damn village is trying to make me quit,” Asuma grumbled. “Can’t a man have his vices?”

“My pamphlets are pretty persuasive,” Dr. Ishiguro said. “They have full-color photos of what oral cancers look like. And abscesses. Not to mention tobacco-stained teeth, which you’re already starting to exhibit.”

“Ah, shit,” Asuma muttered to himself.

 

 

 

Kakashi hesitated, a hand on the edge of his mask. “This is confidential, right?” 

“Everything with ninjas seems to be confidential,” Dr. Ishiguro said. He raised a hand before Kakashi could say anything more. “Yes, it’s a secret, I won’t take pictures except X-rays and I won’t tell a sketch artist what you look like under there. Off with it.”

Kakashi tugged his mask down with a sigh.

Dr. Ishiguro leaned in and squinted. “Mmm. That’s… four teeth missing?”

Kakashi shrugged, his mouth stretched wide.

“A few of these canines are badly chipped, too. I’m seeing some redness around your gums… Do you floss?”

Another shrug.

“Did you chew gum before you came in here?”

Shrug.

Dr. Ishiguro pulled back. “How often do you chew gum?”

“Whenever I want to make out,” Kakashi said, smacking his lips. He grinned crookedly, revealing the holes where molars should have been. “It was a bit of a dealbreaker, apparently. So I go through a pack every three days when our schedules line up.”

“Start brushing your teeth instead of chewing gum,” Dr. Ishiguro said. “And floss at least once a day. For you, maybe twice. I haven’t seen gingivitis this bad since that boy with the mouths in his hands… Take care of those gaps you have in your teeth. Make sure no food particles get stuck in there. What color toothbrush do you want?”

Kakashi shrugged, tugging his mask up. 

Dr. Ishiguro sighed. “Will you _use_ the toothbrush I give you?”

“He will,” said a muffled voice from the other side of the door to Dr. Ishiguro’s exam room.

“Stay out of it, Tenzo,” Kakashi said.

“I told you gum wouldn’t cut it,” Tenzo called through the door.

“You have an appointment in two weeks and I hope you need root canals,” Kakashi said calmly. “Lots of them.” He nodded politely to Dr. Ishiguro and slithered out of the chair.  
“Take the toothbrush,” Dr. Ishiguro said, holding out a blue one.

Kakashi eyed it suspiciously with his one visible eye, then slumped his shoulders in a ‘if you insist’ gesture and pocketed the brush.

 

 

 

“Incredible,” Dr. Ishiguro said reverently. He squinted at the light glancing off the man’s teeth. “These are some of the best-kept bicuspids I’ve seen in decades. Keep doing what you’re doing, it’s wonderful.”

Guy’s eyes welled up with tears of pride.

 

 

 

Iruka stared at the magazine selection. There were a lot of kid’s magazines with educational puzzles that Naruto would hate. There were several magazines about taking care of your health as you aged, including one issue dedicated to the power of prunes. And then there were some shiny new magazines, fresh and clean, that went into the kind of weaponry Iruka would expect Tenten to gush over. These looked like new acquisitions.

“Umino Iruka?” called the receptionist. Iruka stood up quickly and she gave him an automatic smile. “Dr. Ishiguro would like to talk with you.”

“Does he need braces?” Iruka asked, knowing how desperate he sounded but unable to stop the terror in his voice.

The receptionist kept her smile in place. “If you’ll just go in back.”

Iruka almost ran through the door she’d indicated. He found Naruto sitting in a chair that looked like it doubled as an interrogation machine. Instead of looking tortured, though, Naruto looked stubbornly pissy, arms crossed and jaw thrust forward in discontent. 

Dr. Ishiguro looked up at Iruka. “You’re Naruto’s legal guardian?”

“Yes,” Iruka said. “Does he need braces?”

“Why does everyone think that’s the end of the world?” Dr. Ishiguro sighed. “No, he doesn’t need braces. I wouldn’t trust him to use a retainer anyway. No, I wanted to talk with you about Naruto’s grinding habit.”

Horrible images flashed through Iruka’s mind. “Uh, when you say grinding—”

“He’s wearing down the enamel on his teeth,” Dr. Ishiguro said. He slid a few x-rays over to Iruka. Iruka picked them up and studied them, pretending he could understand what was going on.

“I’m _not_ wearing a mouth guard,” Naruto said firmly. “That’s for wussies.”

“No, it’s for people who want to keep their teeth into adulthood,” Dr. Ishiguro said. He looked up at Iruka, one hand rubbing absently up and down his left thigh. “Look, he needs molds made but he’s refusing so I figured you could talk to him while I take casts. Shouldn’t be more than ten minutes, then you can come back in a week and pick up the mouth guard. He’d wear it at night and we’ll see if that keeps his teeth protected enough.”

“So you just want me here to be supportive while you…?”

“I’m going to make a mold of his teeth, pour in plastic to make a mold, and then have a mouth guard made that will fit just him,” Dr. Ishiguro explained patiently.

“Oh, okay,” Iruka said.

“He’s gonna put gross stuff in my mouth,” Naruto whined.

“Naruto, you’ve put frogs in your own mouth,” Iruka said. “And vice versa. Let the man work.”

Naruto grumbled under his breath but lay back.

“This is going to taste like old tires,” Dr. Ishiguro said. “Fair warning.” He scooted around on his rolling stool, collecting some powder and a horseshoe-shaped bowl that fit in his palm. He poured water over the powder and stirred it with a tongue depressor until it was a pink putty, then slapped it into the bowl and stood up stiffly.

“Open wide and breathe through your nose for this part,” Dr. Ishiguro said.

Naruto gulped.

“Come on,” Iruka said, gripping Naruto’s hand. “It’ll be over in a minute.”

“Forty-five seconds,” Dr. Ishiguro corrected.

Naruto reluctantly cracked his lips open.

“Wider, please,” Dr. Ishiguro said. Then, “All right, remember to breathe through your nose. You’re fine. You— stop that, you’re okay. Breathe through your _nose_ for Pete’s sake.”

“Naruto!” Iruka snapped. “Consider this a mission and _hold still_! You’ve almost drowned before, you can hold your breath for a minute if you have to!”

“Thirty seconds more,” Dr. Ishiguro said, swatting Naruto’s free hand away from his face. “I can count it down for you if that’ll help.”

Naruto was making tiny gagging noises, eyes wide with panic. Iruka clamped on to both of Naruto’s hands and said, “Naruto, think about what we’re going to do after this, all right? I’ll take you for ramen. It’ll be fine.”

“Fifteen more seconds,” Dr. Ishiguro said.

“Keep thinking about that ramen,” Iruka urged. Naruto was breathing better now. He was still darting glances around frantically but his white-knuckled grip on Iruka’s fingers was loosening up a bit.

“And we’re good,” Dr. Ishiguro said, popping the mold off of Naruto’s teeth with a practiced motion. “Keep your mouth open, I’ll get you something to rinse with. You don’t want to taste that.” He passed over a tiny paper cup of water and limped off.

“Why do I have to come here?” Naruto whined after he’d chugged all the water. “I’ve never been to a dentist before in my _life_ , this _sucks_. Doesn’t the Nine-Tails take care of my teeth for me?”

“I don’t know,” Iruka sighed. “I assume this man knows his business.”

“Maybe if I tell him about the Nine-Tails he won’t have to mess around with my teeth anymore,” Naruto mused.

“No,” Iruka said.

Dr. Ishiguro re-entered with an orange toothbrush and a roll of floss. “All right, so I noticed your gums—”

“I have the Nine-Tails inside me, I don’t have to floss!” Naruto yelled.

Dr. Ishiguro stared at him coldly. “Everyone has to floss. You’re on the edge of gingivitis. Take care of your teeth already. In your case, they’re the only ones you’re going to get.”

“I could grow more, you don’t know!” Naruto said.

Dr. Ishiguro rolled his eyes. “I _do_ know, actually. The one person I’ve met who’s capable of regrowing teeth had clear indicators of what he could do. You don’t have anything waiting in the wings, so to speak.”

“What? Who could regrow teeth?” Naruto asked, distracted.

“Hoshigaki Kisame,” Dr. Ishiguro said. “But you know, with that Samehada of his it was kind of a cheat.”

“Whaaaaat oh my gosh!” Naruto howled. “That’s so cool! I wanna meet that guy!”

Dr. Ishiguro held out the toothbrush and floss. “He’s not from this village. Brush twice a day, floss at night. I’ll see you in a week. Try to work on relaxing your jaw when you’re awake; it’s really not a good thing to be grinding your teeth as much as you do. I’ve seen some chipping already and it’ll only get worse.”

 

 

 

“I’m just saying it’s causing undue jaw strain,” Dr. Ishiguro explained tiredly. “Not to mention it’s dangerous to chew on your weaponry. And unhygienic if the senbon isn’t clean.”

“It’s clean, it’s clean,” Genma insisted. “Look, it’s always handy if I need and it’s kind of a signature thing.”

“You can pick a new thing that _won’t_ wreck your jaw and teeth,” Dr. Ishiguro suggested.

Genma’s frown deepened. Dr. Ishiguro threw up his hands and turned away. 

 

 

 

“Ah, hello Mr. Hatake,” Dr. Ishiguro said. “So you’re the one picking up Yamato?”

“Yep,” Kakashi said, peering over Dr. Ishiguro’s head. Dr. Ishiguro only came up to the man’s chest so this wasn’t difficult.

“He’s still a bit, um, loopy from the anesthesia,” Dr. Ishiguro said. “It’s caused some erratic behavior. We were informed about this, of course. He was very clear on how he reacts to being put completely under. I just wanted to warn you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, when do I get to see Tenzo?” Kakashi said. “Is he saying funny stuff yet? Is he singing?”

“He’s been quiet, apart from some expletives,” Dr. Ishiguro said with a shrug. “I’m sure I’m not allowed to disclose specifics. This office is supposed to be fully confidential, after all.” Dr. Ishiguro frowned suddenly and dug through the documents tacked to his clipboard. “I thought… He put his name down as Yamato?”

“That’s what he goes by _now_ ,” Kakashi said, tapping a foot impatiently. “Can we go?”

Dr. Ishiguro gave him a long look. “Wisdom tooth removal this late in life can have some serious consequences. Make sure the medics down at the hospital are available to you if there are complications. With their help, healing should only take two or three days.”

“Yep, got it,” Kakashi said.

Dr. Ishiguro gave in and stepped aside. “Get him out of here, I have ten exams and two other surgeries to perform before I get to go home.”

“Appreciate it, doc,” Kakashi said. He walked over to the limp figure in the dentist's chair. “Hey, Tenzo.”

“Mmmm.”

“Tenzo, c’mon, sit up.”

“Nooooo.”

“Oh my god. You are so out of it.” Dr. Ishiguro was definitely not trying to eavesdrop, but he did smile down at his notes when he heard Kakashi snicker.

“Shlut up. Go way.”

“Don’t be such a grump. C’mere, I can— Okay, nope, all right, let’s do it this way.”

Kakashi emerged with Yamato curled up in his arms, face swollen and eyes heavy-lidded.

“Will you make it back all right with him?” Dr. Ishiguro asked.

“Yeah, he just reacts badly to anesthesia,” Kakashi said. “He’s not too heavy.”

Dr. Ishiguro eyed the skinny Kakashi and the rather solid Yamato in his arms. Kakashi didn’t look to be straining himself unduly, so Dr. Ishiguro simply tucked a prescription into the left chest pocket of Kakashi’s flak vest and said, “Those should keep the pain away if he needs them.”

“Thanks,” Kakashi said, and then they were gone in a huff of smoke. Dr. Ishiguro walked through the fog, waving it away, and took in the sight of his packed waiting room. There were kids and teens and adults on every available surface, including the walls and ceiling. His niece was fielding calls like a pro now and glaring back whenever a ninja gave her lip.

“All right,” Dr. Ishiguro said, scowling to hide his delighted grin. “Who’s up next?”

**Author's Note:**

> You have no idea how long I've been thinking about this. I had to stop myself from just going through the whole fucking village, figuring out what kind of dental emergencies ninja would have based on their clan tendencies or whatever. This is what I think about when I watch Naruto.


End file.
